


Shut up (I love you)

by alltimecharlo



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Cute, Dates, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier Fluff, Eddie and Myra are friends, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Richie actually likes his job, This is really just them falling in love and being cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-12 20:07:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20570129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alltimecharlo/pseuds/alltimecharlo
Summary: Eddie gets dragged to one of stand up comedian, Richie Tozier’s shows. In the end, he decides maybe it’s not all bad.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I think we all need some Reddie fluff at this moment in time after It Chapter Two, enjoy! :)

“Who’s this guy again?” Eddie asks for the umpteenth time as he shuts the cab door behind him, giving the driver a small wave of thanks. 

He looks down the road and spots the theatre Myra had told him they’d be going to. The name of the show is plastered several times on the numerous billboards framing the entrance, it reads ‘Richie Tozier, Trashmouth: The Tour’. Eddie finds himself thinking what a weird name that is.

Myra simply roles her eyes at him before saying, “Seriously? You must have seen him on the TV or radio before,” Eddie shakes his head at her, “Richie Tozier?” She carries on trying as they near the venue.

There it is again, that feeling at the mention of the man’s name. Eddie had felt it when Myra had first insisted he came with her to his show tonight and ever since he has been trying to pinpoint whatever the hell it is.

Instead of announcing this, however, Eddie simply shrugs at her. Myra starts to look ready to insist he should know who he is again before Eddie is graciously saved by the doorman asking to see their tickets.

Once they’d grabbed a ridiculously overpriced drink and gone to the bathroom, the two take their seats in the stand shortly before the show is due to start. Eddie looks around at the mostly full crowd of at least 5,000 and winces at the loud chatter and laughter of their voices. It didn’t help that he had also counted several health and safety violations since he had walked in.

Turning back around to face the front, he lets out an audible sigh. Myra finishes fishing something out of her bag to look up at him. 

“I can’t believe you dragged me into this.” Eddie states, frowning slightly. He would’ve much rather had spent the night in his clean apartment and not had to deal with what was surely going to be a splitting headache after the show.

Myra tells him he should try being a supportive friend sometime and starts to tell him about this ‘Richie Tozier’.

“Did you know he’s toured 20 countries in the last two months?!” She exclaims excitedly, obviously proud of her friend, “It’s his last show of his tour tonight so of course I had to come along when he asked if I would.” She then thanks him for coming with her so she didn’t have to go alone.

Eddie was about to shrug off her thanks, because if there’s one thing he is other than a sarcastic hypochondriac, it’s loyal to his friends but he was interrupted by the lights dimming and curtains opening.

He concludes that maybe this wasn’t the worst idea after all as he can feel his tired eyes from today’s work ready to sleep in the darkness. That’s it, he’ll have a nice nap and politely clap afterwards.

However, his master plan is halted by a sudden burst of intro music and strobe lights hitting the stage in a blinding way.

Wincing in recovery, Eddie has to blink a couple times before his vision slides back to normal. The first thing he sees is a rather long pair of legs now branching up from the centre of the stage and following them upwards he’s met with a strikingly familiar face that he doesn’t recognise.

“Please welcome, Richieeeee Tozier!” The deep announcer voice echoes around the room as a large burst of cheering and applause erupts around the theatre, simultaneously.

Eddie finds himself studying the man’s face. Framed by black, thick-rimmed glasses, his light brown eyes study the crowd as he waves his hand in all directions in appreciation. A large grin occupies the man’s face, white teeth gleaming under the spotlights and contrasted by the dark plight of stubble stretching across his cheeks.

Despite the strange feeling welling in his chest, Eddie can’t help but admit he finds the man handsome. The cheers die down as Richie opens his mouth to begin his show and as much as Eddie hates to admit it, he was unable to suppress his laughter...several times.

———

The show finishes on a belter of a joke, the show coming full circle and impressing the audience thus receiving a standing ovation from the already enthusiastic crowd.

Myra jumps up clapping immediately and Eddie sighs half heartedly as he rises slowly to stand alongside her, clapping as he goes.

Richie exits the stage after going round accepting his applause for a few minutes and the audience begins to file out.

Eddie pats himself down to check he has everything: phone, keys, inhaler, in-case-of-emergency tablets for almost anything and turns to Myra to find her moving down the aisle in the opposite direction to the exit door.

Confused, he shouts, “Where are you going?” So she can hear him and is answered by her turning around and quickly returning to grab his wrist, pulling him along with her.

“Ow, ow, ow,” He exclaims loudly trying to free his wrist, “Hey, you know that’s my bad arm.” 

Myra just shoots him a look before ushering him towards a door that says ‘PRIVATE NO GENERAL ENTRY’ in bold, red letters.

He stares at her incredulously, “Myra, I like you a lot, but I’m not going to go breaking and entering with you.” He panics.

“No, silly,” Myra replies, “Richie invited me backstage too, he said to knock on this door and security would know to let us through.”

Calming himself slightly, Eddie lets out a breath of relief, pocketing his inhaler he had been very ready to use. “Oh, okay.” 

Myra knocks on the door and the next thing he knows, Eddie’s being bundled down a series of dark corridors by a tall, well-built man who’s dressed in black head to toe.

Finally, they reach what Eddie presumes is the backstage area which is thankfully more open and well lit than where he’d previously been. There’s many people still bustling around, sorting out mics, wires and speakers, but even Eddie spots Richie Tozier from a way off. He’s very tall.

“Richie!” He hears Myra exclaim before he could even gain all his bearings back. He then finds himself being tugged (again, but luckily by his good arm this time) and finds himself landing right before the man he’d just been staring up at on stage.

“Myra!” He hears the man in question exclaim in reply and Myra lets the tight grip on his arm go when she’s enveloped in a hug. “I’m so glad you made it.”

“Aw, Rich, so am I! I loved the show, what a good job you did.” She congratulates him as he shrugs off her compliments modestly. “I try my best.”

Eddie has enough of shuffling on his feet watching the two talk animatedly and so clears his throat loudly, staring at Myra.

She whips her attention around to him quickly and says, “Ah, yes. Richie, this is my good friend Eddie, I finally managed to convince him to accompany me tonight.”

Eddie smiles at Richie and offers out his hand politely, Richie takes it joking, “Not a fan then,” With a smirk, “Still, I hope you enjoyed the show.”

Eddie finds himself smiling back. “It was alright.” He offers, withdrawing his hand from the shake.

Myra rolls her eyes at him and turns to Richie. “Don’t lie Eddie, I heard you laughing all the way through.” She insists.

Richie’s eyes widen at her statement and shift back onto him. “Oh really?” He replies.

Eddie feels a blush rush across his face, caught in the dulling down of his enjoyment of the show. 

“Fine,” he relents, shaking his head, “Maybe I did enjoy it.” 

He looks up at Richie to find him grinning gleefully. Eddie’s about to say something else before he’s interrupted by Myra hastily pushing past the two of them belatedly shouting behind her that she’d seen someone she knows disappear behind a door to their left.

Eddie just shakes her head at her antics before he realises he’s been left alone with Richie Tozier. He’s working out what to say or do when Richie does that for him.

“Eddie, right? Can I call you Eds?” He asks quite excitedly, not even asking for confirmation on his first question.

Eddie feels his face screw up in disgust, “Um, no?” He answers, ‘Eddie’ is the only variation of many he’ll allow.

“Aw, no, c’mon. I think it’s cute.” Richie pushes and somehow he has Eddie blushing again.

“I actually saw you during the show, I think,” He carries on to him, “Quite near the front, on the left, right?”

He doesn’t really know what to say to that so he just nods. He’d thought that maybe he’d locked eyes with Richie during his act but he’d brushed it off as a pause for dramatic effect. Did Richie maybe feel the same strange feeling he did when he saw him for the first time?

“Yeah?” He manages after a moment, glancing up at Richie’s face and feeling somehow fond. God, he’s only known of the man for a couple hours.

Richie bursts into laughter as he answers, “Yeah, Eds, it’s hard to miss that bright blue suit.” 

Eddie glances down at his attire and rolls his eyes back up at the man. “It’s a pastel blue, dipshit, and I said not to call me that!” 

He doesn’t know where the name calling came from, as if he were a fourteen year old kid again, but he’s grateful that Richie seems unfazed by it. Apparently, he finds his comment funny too.

Eddie finds himself continuing, “Also, I will not be spoken to that way by a man wearing a salmon pink shirt.” Alluding to Richie’s stage outfit consisting of a pink shirt messily tucked into high-rising black slacks.

Richie fiends hurt at his words, opening his mouth and clutching his chest before sighing, “Yeah, it is salmon, isn’t it? Shit.” And apparently they both can’t withhold their amusement as they find themselves chuckling at each other.

As their laughter trails off, Richie smiles at him, appearing to muster up the courage to say something. Eddie can’t help smiling back as he waits, slightly impatiently.

The moment, however, is disrupted by Myra returning by coming crashing through them once again. 

“Can you believe I hadn’t seen that woman for twelve years?!” Myra chatters, shoving something back into her handbag, “Twelve!”

Eddie drags his eyes away from her and back up to Richie, but all signs of what he might have said have vanished again.

Richie chuckles at Myra, “Will you be staying for the after party? It’s at a small bar down the road.” He asks, looking at both of them.

Before Eddie can even decide if he might like to go, however, Myra announces that their taxi is booked to arrive in a few minutes and finding another on a Friday evening would be a nightmare. She’s right, unfortunately.

“Ah, okay then,” Richie relents looking mostly at him, “Well, I hope to see you again soon?”

Myra answers, “Of course, let’s meet up soon.” Pulling Richie into another hug before turning towards the door.

Richie looks to Eddie, eyes asking the same question. He manages, “Sure.” With a hitch of a smile as the other’s eyes stay fixed with his.

Myra calls for him at the door so Eddie just offers Richie an apologetic smile, receiving an understanding and amused one in return, before walking to Myra.

Once out in the bracing, cool air of New York, Eddie realises how warm his face is and how blushed he still probably is.

———

He had stumbled in last night at an unspeakable time, traffic in New York is ridiculous. So he found himself waking later than he usually would on a weekend.

He let himself lie down a while longer and reflect on the night before. Halfway through recounting everything embarrassing his almost and may have said, his phone buzzes and lights up his ceiling.

Rolling over to reach it, he sees it’s Myra calling. After some deliberation, he decides it would be rude to decline even though he may currently still be half asleep.

“Hey.” He says, frowning when his voice comes out croaky. That’d be the drink last night.

He hears Myra giggle down the phone and ask, “Lie in? I’ve called you two times already.”

“Oh shit, really?” Eddie replies feeling bad, “Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s okay, I just wanted to catch you before I have to go into this meeting soon,” She explains before stating the reason for her call, “Look, Richie texted me this morning asking for your number.”

Eddie’s brain takes a minute to catch up. “Richie... Tozier?” He finds himself asking dumbly, though he wants to make sure he heard that right.

“Yeah,” She says (he can practically hear her roll her eyes at him), “who else?”

He sits up in his bed and leans against his headboard. His free hand finds the edge of his duvet, fiddling with it.

“Um... why?” He asks, still sure he’s half asleep and possibly hallucinating.

Myra tuts down the phone and sounds surprised, “Maybe because he’s interested in you? Because he’s also gay?”

She beats him to his second ‘why?’ before he can say it. “He’s gay?” Is all he manages with a million things going through his head right now.

“Yeah, but don’t go round spreading that okay? He’s not really out publicly yet.” Myra tells him.

Eddie’s brain finally connects to his mouth and an outburst ensues, “Oh my god, did you take me with you purposely to set me up?! Why didn’t you tell me? I probably acted like a complete idiot.”

He finds himself laughing nervously at the realisation and Myra’s silence stretching a while answers for him.

“Maybe,” She settles on saying teasingly, “I seriously thought you guys would get along though! You remind me of each other.”

Eddie laughs and Myra takes it the wrong way. “What? Did you not get on with him? He sure seems to think you did.”

“No, no, we did get on,” He insists and carries on with a smile, “It’s just you’re right, we are quite similar.” Then his mind catches up with what she said.

“He thinks we get on well?” He asks meekly and hopefully. Myra lets out a laugh and confirms this.

“Yeah, he wants to see you again Eddie,” He hates how good that makes him feel.  
“He also said tha-, hold on a second.”

Eddie waits patiently as he hears her talking with someone else.

“Listen Eddie, I’ve got to go into the meeting now. Should I give him your number?” She asks hurriedly.

“Sure, yeah, okay.” Eddie answers decidedly, he’d quite like to see Richie Tozier again.

“Great!” He hears from Myra before the call cuts off. He doesn’t sit and ponder in bed this time, however, opting to do it in the shower instead.

———

He’s neatly cutting his salad ingredients when he hears his phone ping from where he set it down on the counter. He eyes it for a moment before deciding to leave it for the time being, it might not even be him. Returning to the task at hand, he slices exactly three more slices of cucumber before giving in and moving to wash his hands so he could pick up his phone.

Drying them as he approaches it, which is turned face down on the counter, he thinks to himself how ridiculous he’s being currently. His heart is beating too fast, along with his increased breath rate and he hasn’t even looked at the bloody message. It might not even _be_ him.

Chucking the towel he was clutching aside, he takes a puff of his inhaler in a effort to calm down. No wonder he’s had no luck in relationships before; the slightest bit of excitement has him gasping for air.

Finally, he decides he has to turn it over sooner or later so he does it quickly, immediately placing it back down and stepping away after doing so. He glances down hesitantly at the screen and turns his phone on.

_Hey Eds, it’s Richie from last night._  
Received 13:23

Eddie shakes his head at the stupid nickname he had apparently dubbed him with now. Then he realises he received that text almost over two hours ago and there was actually another.

_I hope I got the right number??? Otherwise that’s pretty embarrassing huh_  
Received 15:03

The one he’d heard come through was the most recent, he must’ve somehow missed the previous one. It seems he was so caught up in his anxiousness of waiting he missed it entirely. 

Shit. He realises. Now Richie thinks he’s got the wrong number and he’s gonna look like a dick for replying quite late.

_It is me, sorry I didn’t see your first message._

He settles on sending after way too much deliberation. Then he decides to add to this with a further message but halfway through typing it, he’s interrupted by his screen turning dark and his phone vibrating in his hand.

_Incoming call from Richie  
Answer Decline_

Oh God. Is all he manages to think to himself, he’s gonna have to answer it after all. He wishes Richie wasn’t such talker.

Picking his phone up and sitting on the couch swiftly, Eddie answers the call. Seating himself was strategic, he couldn’t pace up and down nervously then.

“Hey.” He simply says, not really knowing what to expect.

“Eds, hey!” He hears in return down the phone, “I was starting to think I’d been blown off and Myra had just given me a random number out of pity.” Richie chuckles after he says this but Eddie can tell he was actually quite nervous about him texting back. This relaxes him slightly, at least they were kind of in the same boat.

“No, no,” Eddie begins, glad to find his voice not too quiet and shaky, “I genuinely didn’t see your first text, sorry.” He feels bad.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Richie insists taking a moment before asking, “Maybe you could make it up to me by going out with me tonight at seven?” very hopefully.

Eddie’s quite taken aback by his straightforwardness but is very grateful for it. He asks anyway, “Like a date?”

Richie coughs and answers quietly, “Like a date.” he confirms, clearly impatient for his answer.

“Yeah, okay.” Eddie agrees with a smile spreading across his face. He hasn’t been this excited about something in a while.

“Yeah?” Richie repeats rather quietly, as if he’d expected to be turned down. “Oh right, okay, yeah.” He sounds louder now and more like himself.

Eddie waits a second before asking where.

“Oh right, of course, um, there’s this nice restaurant down the road from me.” He suggests before backtracking, “Oh God, I hope you don’t live too far, where do you live?” 

Eddie tells him, chuckling slightly, amused at his ramblings. He doesn’t live too far away. He takes a note of the restaurant’s address.

“Good, okay then. I’d’ve offered to do a show for you since you loved my one last night, but I thought that might be a bit much.” Richie teases.

“Oh shut up,” Eddie snaps lightly, “Just letting you know, if I turn up at the restaurant and you’re sitting there in your salmon pink shirt I’m walking right back out again.”

Richie laughs and promises not to wear the salmon pink shirt. 

“So, I’ll see you then?” Eddie finalises whilst staring at his watch and mentally calculating how long he has to get ready.

“See you then, Eds.” Richie tells him, amusement in his voice, before cutting off their call, knowing it would rile the other up. Sure enough, Eddie rolled his eyes in annoyance.

———

From the outside, the restaurant didn’t look like anything much but on entering Eddie understood why Richie had chosen this place. The interior was warmly lit, creating a welcoming atmosphere and a suitable wood-based design only added to the feeling. Eddie also graciously welcomed any element of heat in lieu of the cold and dark winter’s night outside.

Reaching the hostess, she asks him for his reservation name. For a moment he’s stumped, would Richie have used his actual name being quite a well known comedian and all? Luckily, he’s saved when he feels the bracing, outdoor wind hit his back and turns round to find none other than Richie himself, standing before him.

He’s rather taken aback by the obvious effort Richie had put in getting ready for tonight. The salmon shirt is nowhere to be seen thankfully, instead, he wears a grey shirt layered with a subtly embroidered black blazer.

It makes Eddie thankful he had decided to dress rather well too, picking out his favourite white shirt he barely ever wears in fear of staining it. He’d also worn his best fitting trousers knowing they worked wonders for his figure.

Before he could comment on Richie’s appearance, however, he beat him to it.

“Wow,” Richie breathes out, eyes moving up and down Eddie, taking him in. It makes Eddie feel practically naked. “You look... you look amazing.” He apparently manages to finally settle on.

Not that he ever could before, Eddie finds himself unable to prevent the blush spreading across his face. Well aware of his redness, he thanks him slightly looking down to try and hide it.

This is seemingly unsuccessful as Richie lets out an audible chuckle which he had been trying to stifle for Eddie’s sake.

Deciding to give up, Eddie shakes his head and looks up at him anyway. He can’t help but smile at him and say, “You look great too.”

Richie smiles and tells the poor hostess who’d been patiently waiting through this whole ordeal his real name, which the booking was under. She tells them to wait a minute as she goes to check the table, leaving them alone.

Turning back to him, Richie says, “Thanks, but I’m pretty sure I have the same dress sense as your mother. I’m clueless.” self-deprecatingly.

Eddie can’t help but tackle the joke first exclaiming, “Hey, my mum knows how to dress.” whilst landing a couple jabs to Richie’s side. Suddenly he thought about how they haven’t even touched yet. Well, hadn’t.

Richie cringes away quickly, begging him to stop between laughter. Eddie feels his face explode into a smile as he realises, “Oh my God, you’re ticklish.”

Managing to stand straight again, now free from Eddie’s clutches, Richie rights his blazer and tries to insist calmly, “No, I’m not!”

“Oh hoooo, you definitely are.” Eddie tells him, deciding to file that information away for future use. Richie only huffs in response, frowning at him.

“You do look really good though, you do.” Eddie tries again sincerely, providing a warm smile and portraying his sincerity with his eyes as well.

He gets a fond smile of thanks from Richie in return as the hostess returns, telling them their table is ready.

———

“I can’t believe you did that.” Eddie laughs, clinging onto Richie’s offered arm as they exit the restaurant.

“What else was I meant to do?! The guy wouldn’t leave us alone.” Richie exclaims before bursting into laughter as well.

Their meals had been delicious, they were hitting it off massively (if Eddie did say so himself) and he’d found out many interesting things about Richie Tozier.

For example, he asked why his show was called ‘Trashmouth’.

“It’s weird.” He’d told him laughing, taking a sip from his glass. They’d invested in a bottle of wine and it was going down a treat, as well as making everything more funny than it probably was.

“Like me then.” Richie had quipped, pulling a face. Eddie had slapped him on the arm lightly before everyone saw.

“Stop that,” He’d laughed, still holding onto his arm across the table, “What about your public image?”

“Ugh, you sound like my manager,” Richie’d groaned, “Fuck public image.” He’d finished, raising his glass as if in a toast. Eddie’d followed suit, clinking their glasses together before finishing the contents. 

Richie told him anyway, “It’s something I used to get called as a kid, I think,” He’d read Eddie’s frown and reiterated, “In an _affectionate_ way.” With a smile.

Eddie let his frown dissolve and asked, “You think?” 

“Yeah, I don’t know, it’s weird. I don’t remember a whole lot of my childhood.” Richie’d explained.

“Neither do I, actually.” Eddie’d admitted. People talk so fondly of their younger years yet he’d never been able to relate.

Richie’d chuckled at the coincidence and joked, “Maybe we were both dropped on our heads as babies.”

Eddie couldn’t stop himself from laughing at the dark joke but had found himself saying, “Beep beep, Richie.”

He’d looked at him, confused at that but Eddie didn’t know either so all he’d offered back was an equally confused shrug.

Among other things, he’d also learnt that Richie had a soft spot for Pomeranians. (“The little yappy dogs?” Eddie’d asked, disagreement donning his face. Richie had tutted and told him if he saw one he’d think it was cute, which he couldn’t exactly disagree with.)

However, their easy-flowing conversation following their dinner was interrupted by an insistent middle aged man. He was a fan of Richie and Richie treated him well enough, holding a brief conversation with him and even signing a napkin for him. 

When Richie asked him to leave politely, the man had gotten shirty and rude. But the last straw was when Eddie had a go at trying to dissolve the confrontation and the man had grabbed his shoulders quite threateningly. 

Richie had exploded in anger, warning him quietly for the benefit of other diners, “If you don’t fuck off right now, pal, I’m gonna get the manager down here. He’s a very good friend of mine and 6’3.”

Unsurprisingly, the man’d left, grumbling to himself on his way out. Richie, having sprung up in all his anger, sighed as he seated himself again. He looked up to find Eddie staring at him, amazed, startled and impressed.

“What?” He’d asked self-consciously under his gaze. 

“That was fucking hot.” Eddie couldn’t help but say. He wasn’t even embarrassed about it, it was.

A sultry grin had worked its way across Richie’s face and he asked, “I don’t feel like dessert, you?”

“I’m alright.” Eddie’d replied, grinning. Richie quickly called for the bill and that’s what lead them outside, laughing in the New York cold.

“I can’t believe you told him to fuck off,” Eddie laughs, “The look on his face!”

Richie smiles down at him beside him and tells him, “Well, I didn’t want anything to happen to you.” holding his eyes for a moment. 

Eddie can’t help glancing at his lips, thinking about how welcoming and warm they would be on his own in this cold. 

Then the next thing he knows, Richie’s leaning down and kissing him. He lets the warmth spread through him just as he’d imagined it would. Eddie turns his body slightly so he can reach his hand up to hold the other’s head lightly as they move against each other.

He kisses back earnestly and feels Richie smile in return. Richie’s arms whind round his back, pulling him closer and Eddie caresses his face fondly.

When they finally pull back, Eddie feels out of breath, he almost goes for his inhaler but decides against it for the sake of the moment. He’s glad he doesn’t as Richie rests his forehead against his. God, he loves this.

Richie catches his breath too before asking, “Would you... want to come back to mine?” nervously.

Eddie shoots him a smile before replying, “You seriously have to ask after that?” And grabbing his hand, beginning to walk, feeling more confident than he’s ever been.

“Shut up.” Richie says defensively with a frown but also a comforting, warm squeeze of his hand as he falls into step with Eddie.

“Eds?” Richie asks after a moment of walking, “Eds?” He repeats when he gets no answer, turning towards the other man.

“I’m not gonna answer to that name.” Eddie tells him coldly, quickening his pace so Richie has to actively try and keep up.

“Okay, fine.” Richie manages to say, barely holding back a snicker.

Eddie stops them in the middle of the pavement, putting a hand against his chest to halt him.

“Fine, what is it?” He asks, looking at him expectantly.

Richie smiles as he tells him, relishing the other’s annoyance, “My house is the other way.” Motioning with his head.

Eddie just stares at him for a few seconds before walking past him, in the correct direction this time, and shouting, “Shut up.” before he can even say anything.

Richie follows with a smile.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie accompanies Richie to a talk show and Richie gets more than he bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for such a positive response to the first chapter! I hope you enjoy the second instalment :)

Eddie awakes with a start, jolting out of his sleep. He can’t even remember what he’d been dreaming about but his heart rate is through the roof. The deep, rhythmic thumping can be heard in his ears.

However, his body begins to relax slightly, coming down from its heightened state of panic, when a disgruntled moan emits from the left of him. Richie’s there, right beside him, anchoring him.

A warm hand manages to find his side in the darkness and creeps round to settle on the small of his back. Eddie finds himself tugged closer to the other and wilfully obliges, sighing in both relief and content when he can now feel Richie’s warmth radiating beside him.

Then, Eddie starts to feel his body ease back into sleep as Richie plants a feather-like kiss on his lips and rests his forehead against his (Richie would also strongly deny any of this later on, arguing he was ‘half asleep’ when Eddie teases him for being a softie.) He drifts off with ease.

———

Eddie’s start to the day is not so tranquil, unfortunately, as he’s abruptly awakened by a loud crash followed by Richie loudly cursing, “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

He groans in frustration at the antics of the other man. They’d been together for over a couple of weeks, but Richie still managed to find new ways to almost drive him up the wall everyday.

Hastily pulling on a t-shirt he was pretty sure was Richie’s, as it fell below his hips and gaped at the neck, Eddie makes his way to the kitchen fearing the worst. However, he was well aware of the risks of allowing Richie to cook at his place.

He was quite proud of himself really. Last weekend, he’d let him cook him dinner, well, _attempt_ to. Even though the lasagna managed to become burnt and unsalvageable in a record breaking time (Eddie can’t even begin to understand how one can _burn_ lasagna) and they’d ended up ordering in Chinese food, Eddie had only come to the brink of hyperventilation twice. 

The evening was very entertaining in the end. When they finally sat down on the couch with their takeout exhausted from running around fanning fire alarms and wafting smoke out of the window, they both burst into laughter at the ridiculousness of their situation. Both were very satisfied to spend the rest of the evening lying on and eventually cuddling up to each other on the couch in front of shitty 80s reruns they both pretended to hate.

Eddie enters his pristine, crystal white kitchen to come face to face with the vision of Richie sheepishly gathering parts of a mug from the floor. He leans against the doorframe and clears his throat to catch his attention.

“Did you break my fucking mug?” Eddie asks, eyebrows raised and arms settling against his chest.

“Not on _purpose_,” Richie drawls out the last word, “S’not my fault the handles are too small.” He’d raised this ridiculous point before.

“The handles aren’t small, dipshit, your hands are freaking massive.” He shoots back, moving towards the island counter.

Richie just shakes his head as he disposes of the ceramic fragments in the bin and turns around pointing out, “You didn’t seem to mind that last night.” With a warm smirk stretching itself across his face.

Blush rushes his cheeks for about the a hundredth time due to Richie and Eddie can only retort quickly, “Shut up.” before retrieving himself another mug from the top shelf.

“I was gonna make us coffee.” Richie explains, mumbling slightly and apparently still feeling a bit guilty.

“Well, seeing as I’m able to make two cups of coffee without causing a injury to myself and others, I think I better takeover,” Eddie says, receiving a mimicking look from the other but Richie hands him his mug all the same, “You can do the cereal.” He figures this is the task with the lowest number of possible disastrous outcomes.

Richie mutters an agreement reluctantly, moving to the fridge for the milk. A couple minutes later, Eddie finds his cereal presented in front of him and is impressed to find the milk to cereal ratio is acceptable and to his liking. After only two weeks, Richie picks up on things quickly.

The two eat in comfortable silence for a moment before Richie seems to suddenly realise, “Is that my shirt?” He asks, motioning to Eddie’s current attire.

Eddie squirms in his seat, knowing that the other is staring and feels himself redden. “I just chucked something on.” He tells him, glancing down to start at his cereal as if it was suddenly very interesting.

Richie surprises him by reaching out with his free hand and stroking, what he assumes is, his bedhead hair out of his face. He looks up at him to find him smiling.

“I think it’s cute.” Richie tells him with a shy smile. 

Eddie softens at his comment but says, “Fuck off, shut up.” He can’t help but to find himself chuckling.

His mind now almost fully awake, Eddie regards Richie’s outfit. He’s fully dressed and nicely presented, which makes a change for this hour. He frowns and asks him why.

“Didn’t I say?” He asks while moving to clear both their dishes, “I’m appearing on a talk show this morning to promote my tour DVD. Gotta look presentable, even if they bore me half to death.” He supports his statement by readjusting his shirt collar. 

Eddie huffs in agreement, “Rather you than me,” He says, drinking from his mug, but he doesn’t like the glint of an idea he catches in Richie’s eyes, “Oh God, what?”

“You could come with me?” Richie suggests in a hopeful tone, “I’ll take you out to lunch after.” 

Eddie stares at him incredulously, “I do have a job too, you know.” He points out, checking his watch for dramatic effect.

“I thought you said the company practically ran itself these days?” He questions after finishing a long sip of his coffee.

He contemplates it in his head. “I can’t just nip in and out when I want though, still.”

“Aw, c’mon Eds, you must have enough accumulated sick days, I bet you’re barely ever ill.” Richie suggests, trying his best, “Won’t you at least try and get out of work to try and save your boyfriend from being literally bored to death?”

He says it so casually Eddie doesn’t even think he noticed he said the ‘b’ word until his question is followed by Eddie’s nervous silence. 

Even though they’d been seeing a lot of each other in the past weeks, they’re still yet to put a label on what they are. It’s not as if they’re dancing around the subject, it just never really came up. 

Richie picks up on Eddie’s silence and nerves and quickly tries to backtrack, “Unless... unless that’s not what you want, I-“

“No, no, no. That is... what I want,” Eddie interrupts, talking slowly and carefully, “I- I’d like us to be boyfriends. If that’s what you want too.” He finishes with a hopeful flash of a smile, finally looking up at him.

Richie’s look of fondness and affection, that is aimed at him, warms his heart massively as he answers sincerely, “Yeah, of course.”

They both can’t help but smile as they both lean in to a brief, soft kiss.

As they pull back, Eddie eyes him suspiciously, “I can pick to eat anywhere I want?” He checks. 

Richie begins to nod before stopping himself and backtracking, “As long as it’s not one of those horrible vegan places.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “They’re good for you!” He insists, eyes staring at the other intensely.

Shaking his head dismissively, Richie retorts, “I do not want to pay an inflated price for a plate of leaves, thank you very much.” He opens his mouth to argue again but is cut off by the other. 

“The car’s gonna arrive soon, “ Richie says, when Eddie doesn’t move to do anything he carries on, “You might want to actually get dressed, unless you’re planning on gracing the streets of New York with the sight of you drowning in my t-shirt and just your boxers.”

He receives a light push from Eddie as he makes his way back into the bedroom to change. This only makes him smile.

———

“Please welcome Richie Tozier!” The loud-mouthed host exclaims, dragging out his last name. The studio audience erupts in applause and Eddie claps along with them. He’d opted to sit in the crowd rather than backstage, he might as well watch the show, he’d reckoned.

Richie rounds the corner onto the stage and the crowd’s volume only increases. Appreciatively, he waves to and thanks his fans before turning and shaking the host’s hand, belatedly laughing at a comment he’d made, and taking his seat on the plush, navy sofa. 

As Richie and the host settle into conversation about the tour, Eddie can’t help but appreciate the man on stage before him. His _boyfriend_. The thought makes him giddy and he can’t suppress his smile.

It’d only been two weeks but Eddie swears it feels as if him and Richie have known each other for years, decades even. As he studies him now on stage, the strange feeling of familiarity washes over Eddie again. However, it doesn’t perplex him, like in the first few times it happened, because he’d been swept up by this feeling many times in the past week.

For example, there was an incident a couple of days ago where Richie’s glasses had gotten broken...

“I can’t believe you managed to fucking break them.” Richie had sighed, holding the left and right of his glasses in the corresponding, separate hands.

Eddie’d stared at him disbelievingly arguing back, “What? How’s it my fault? You’re the one who kissed me first.” He’d pointed his finger in his direction for emphasis.

“Yeah but you’re the one who got all enthusiastic and climbed _on top of me._“ Richie’d bickered, chucking what remained of his glasses on the bedside table.

Audibly tutting, Eddie’d laid down on the bed exhaustedly, head in hands. It’d already been a long day for him before all this.

“It’s not my fault you refuse to take them off until the last possible second when we’re in bed.” Eddie’d disputed, rolling his eyes as he did so.

Richie had quickly turned back around on the bed to face him. “That’s because I’m pretty fucking blind without them, asshole.” Then he’d whipped back around to the bedside table and began digging through the top draw.

Mentally still grumbling on, Eddie’d decided to relent for the sake of saving time. “Whatever,” He states, “You have a spare pair though, right?” He didn’t actually want Richie to be as blind as a bat for the foreseeable (or in Richie’s current case, unforeseeable) future.

Letting frustration get the better of him, Richie’d removed the entire draw and placed it on the bed to root around in. Eddie’d watched silently in disgust as Richie upturned many random things in his draw like candy wrappers, year old receipts and empty aftershave cans. He’d concluded that if he was going to be here often, he’d have to have a clean up and organise eventually.

Eddie did say something along the lines of “Don’t you ever clear your shit up?” but Richie had just breezed past it upon apparently finding what he desired.

After replacing the draw to its correct place, Richie’d plonked down a relatively heavy, small and black rectangular shape onto the bed. When it’d landed, at least ten years of collected dust had whirled into the air and Eddie had immediately sprang back from the bed coughing.

“Fuck’s sake,” Eddie’d exclaimed, attempting to rid himself of the dust collected on his polo shirt and giving the other man evils, “Dust can set off my asthma, dipshit.” He’d argued defensively with a bit of a pout.

Richie’d let out a small laugh at his actions but responded, “Sorry, baby. I didn’t know you were so sensitive.” with a grin, drawing out the pet name.

Now, Eddie didn’t even get to dispute the second part of his statement because he couldn’t get past processing the first. _...baby_. He’d kept replaying him saying it in his head; he really, really liked it.

And then, the next thing he knows, he’s been swept along again by Richie as his attention is drawn to the other opening his dusty, ancient case. Once it was fully open, Richie’d sighed and looked over to Eddie.

“They’re like, super outdated by the way,” He’d told him, apprehensive look in his eyes, “Like the 80s or some shit.”

Eddie’d manoeuvred his body so that he was now sat across from Richie, the box in between the two of them.

Snorting before replying, he’d encouraged him to put them on, “C’mon, lemme see.” He’d dragged out the last syllable.

Richie’d let out a deep sigh and told him to close his eyes.

Hesitantly, Eddie’d done so. Eyes shut, he was at the mercy of Richie entirely. He’d frowned the whole time.

“Don’t do something weird.” Eddie’d had to say to calm his own nerves. All he’d heard is a scoff from the other man and the squeaking of the ancient hinges on the case.

“Are they on?” Eddie’d found himself asking impatiently and Richie’d told him that anyone would’ve thought he was eager. He’d followed up with an affirmative, however.

Slowly, Eddie’d opened his eyes, letting in the natural light. It’d taken a moment for his eyes to adjust to the man in front of him but when they finally did... God. Eddie was absolutely lost for words for once and he didn’t even know why.

Large, thick frames sat on Richie’s face as he’d scrunched his nose, (quite adorably, Eddie’d added in his head) trying to get them to rest comfortably. As Eddie’d stared at the sight before him he’d felt a wave of overwhelming nostalgia and faint imagery (_memories? dreams?_) came crashing through his subconscious.

He’d only seen for a couple seconds, but he could’ve sworn one boy in these flashes looked strikingly similar to Richie, square spectacles, longish dark brown hair and decorated with freckles. But, for the life of him, he could not pinpoint the flashes’ origins; He was left with many questions and a profuse desire for his youthful years. Eddie hadn’t felt something like this since, well, since he was _in_ his youth.

“Eds?” A loud call had brought him back to the real world, “Eds, what’s up? They’re hideous, right? I knew it.” Richie’d spoken at a million miles an hour.

He’d carried on staring for a few seconds before registering his questions. Shaking his head to try and focus, looking down, Eddie’d tried to suppress a small laugh. It’s not that they were terrible, just that they were an age out of their era. He’d told him this.

He’d heard Richie mumble God knows what under his breath and Eddie’d shifted his eyes up to meet his hazel gaze. Eddie’d let himself stare at Richie in those stupid glasses and found himself filled with an overwhelming desire to kiss him. 

And so he did, because he could. Eddie’d thought about how he could very happily do this all day. 

Richie was kissing him back just as enthusiastically and they were getting into a rhythm when the taller man suddenly sprang back. 

Eddie’d blinked at him, confused,”What’s the matter?” He asked, hand landing on the material of Richie’s shirt and bunching into it.

Richie’d reached and held onto his hand as he’d informed him, “I don’t want you to fucking break my other pair of glasses.” letting out a laugh.

In response, Eddie’d simply glared intensively at the other man, making Richie laugh even more. However, Richie soon visibly caught on to his revenge plan as he’d lent himself back to root his arms in place behind him. Still, Eddie’d flung himself towards the taller, taking him in again for another mouth-bruising kiss, wrapping his arms around him.

Richie’d sighed contently but this reminded Eddie that he was supposed to be slightly pissed at him and maybe not talking to him after an argument. The next time the two parted briefly for air, Eddie’d managed out a quiet “Fuck you.” before continuing on.

Shortly after, the glasses had been discarded again for amorous reasons. Fortunately, this time they survived.

———

Eddie’s attention is snapped back to the increasingly, swelteringly hot studio he’s in when Richie cracks one of his outrageous jokes and the audience around him cackles loudly. Richie had the host trying to withhold laughter as well and he, himself, couldn’t stop himself from chuckling.

Letting himself (again) admire Richie from his position, Eddie’s interest is soon peaked as the host’s questions turn towards Richie’s upbringing.

“So where do you think you picked up comedy?” The host asks, tapping his pen against his desk.

Richie contemplates the question for a second before beginning, “Back in my youth..., holdup, that makes me sound old,” This gets the host chuckling again.

“As a child,” Richie continues, “I used to always be making jokes and trying to get people to laugh. I guess it was my coping mechanism, kind of.” He finishes off by shrugging.

“That’s interesting,” The host tells him, “Whereabouts did you grow up?”

Eddie waits quite intently; he hasn’t actually learned a lot about Richie’s past. Where he grew up, old friends, his family, even. It’s only been a short while, he knows, but Richie’d never mentioned it at all.

But as he watches Richie, he realises that this question has left him quite stumped. He just frowns and stares ahead like he knows he should know but can’t quite clutch onto it in his mind.

The host coughs awkwardly and asks him if he heard the question. Richie replies with a, “Oh, no, sorry.”

When asked again, something seems to shift into place in Richie’s mind and his eyes visibly light up.

“Ah, I grew up in Derry, Maine,” Richie recounts quite excitedly, although his expression is shadowed by discomfort, “I don’t expect anyone to have heard of it, it’s very small and very uneventful.”

The strange feeling pulled at Eddie’s chest again at the mention of this town, but he overlooks it in favour of becoming increasingly concerned about Richie’s demeanour.

Whether the host noticed Richie’s strange behaviour around the questions regarding his childhood or he was simply pushed for time, the host only asks a couple more questions about the tour before wrapping up the show, thanking Richie for visiting.

Richie answers with a tight, closed smile, “My pleasure.” and acknowledges the audiences’ applause once again before promptly exiting the stage.

Eddie follows him with his eyes intensely before he disappears out of sight and hurries to return backstage, where he had entered the seats from. He doesn’t know what’s going on with Richie but he wants to make sure he’s okay.

———

Searching and stepping through the busy area behind the studio, Eddie scans relentlessly for the sight of his boyfriend. After dodging several moving set pieces being dragged in his direction, he finally catches a glimpse of the man he seeks.

However, he slows his approach upon taking in his current position. Richie’s stood leaning against a wooden beam protruding out of the wall, glasses off and in hand, running his other hand through his hair as Eddie has come to learn he does when he’s stressed. He seems to just about manage to take in a deep breath and shakily release it, although this doesn’t appear to calm him down.

Increasingly worried, Eddie resumes a storming pace to reach him. Richie’s replacing his glasses (newly replaced out of Eddie’s pocket, he must add) and wiping his face when he eventually meets him and his appearance continues to pull on Eddie’s heartstrings.

Upon looking up, Richie reacts strangely. His breaths seem to get caught in his throat as he recognises Eddie and if he tries to speak, words fail him. Eddie’s eyes are drawn downwards to the movement of the other’s hands, he’s grasping and ungrasping his hands together repeatedly, as if to stop them from shaking and Eddie can’t take it any longer.

Stepping forward into the other’s space, Eddie reaches for his hands, gripping them tightly and holding them against his own chest. “Rich, are you okay?” He asks concernedly, keeping his voice low, not wanting to make a scene for Richie’s sake.

Richie’s clasped hands become less tensed against him but he receives no reply, worryingly.

He tries again, “What’s the matter? Are you sick?” He really doesn’t know what’s going on and it’s massively concerning him. Tightening his grip on Richie’s hands, he glances up at the other’s face to search for any possible symptoms.

However, the tired and teary gaze Richie meets him with is not one he was expecting to find and so he is rightfully surprised, halting his movements. Richie only continues to look down at him in this manner, appearing to almost desperately drink in the sight of Eddie’s appearance.

He almost lets out what Eddie thinks is a stifled sob but it’s soon muffled when Eddie suddenly finds himself pulled into a crushing hug by the other man, Richie’s arms locking firmly behind him. Eddie feels his head settle on top of his shoulder and lean against his own.

Still confused, Eddie goes with it anyway, concluding to supply Richie with whatever he needed at this moment in time for any reason. He rests his forehead against his collarbone and joins his own hands around Richie’s waist. 

After a moment he can feel Richie’s breathing return slightly back to normal and attempts carefully pulling out of the embrace to see if Richie was ready to yet. Thankfully, he is and the two slowly pull back from one another. Eddie’s regards the other’s appearance again. Richie looks exhausted; if you’d seen him out of context, you may’ve guessed he’d just been on a short run.

The man in question avoided his gaze and let out a deep sigh, staring down at his shoes. Taking off his glasses again and rubbing at his eyes. 

Eddie watches him before asking, “Rich?” Apparently, he manages to capture the man’s attention as tired eyes shift up to meet his own.

Feeling his own face soften at this sight, Eddie continues, “What’s going on?” His hand finds Richie’s again by their sides.

Finally looking at him, (this makes Eddie feel more relieved than he feels he should be) Richie shakes his head slightly before answering, “I’m okay.”

_Well that’s a fucking lie._

Eddie stares at him and this thought seems to translate over through his eyes. Richie relents.

“Alright, I’m totally not,” He answers truthfully, taking a moment before continuing, deciding on something, “I think I just had a panic attack or something, I got really overwhelmed.”

Now, although this is a plausible explanation for much of what had just occurred, it didn’t sit right with Eddie. But he nodded his head at him as if in understanding anyway.

Richie seems to experience relief before Eddie double checks, “Are you feeling better now? Do you want some water? Some food?” He reals all this off quite quickly.

Not being able to stop himself breaking into a smile at his boyfriends fretting, Richie observes him with a largely melancholic expression and still teary eyes paired with a small grin as he tries to joke, “My own private nurse, Eds.”

Eddie slows at this, only glaring before shoving a bottle of water at him, instructing him to drink.

“Well, sorry for caring.” He answers snarkily, although a squeeze of his hand he receives in return signals to him that Richie is really grateful for all that he’s doing. Richie downs the entire bottle of water.

“I don’t think we should go out for lunch anymore.” Eddie says, discarding the plastic bottle for him. 

Richie watches him disappointedly as he returns. “Oh, I was looking forward to it,” He tells him and continues when Eddie shoots him a worried look, “C’mon, it’ll be a good distraction for me! I don’t want our day to be ruined.” He ends this with a hopeful smile sent Eddie’s way.

Stepping backwards, Eddie contemplates their choices but their decision is pretty much made for him when his stomach lets out a noise of protest. Richie’s head turns quickly to meet his eyes and he gives him a winning grin. 

Giving in and shaking his head helplessly, Eddie tells him to shut up.

———

They end up eating in a sushi bar. Richie had firmly insisted on no ‘plates of leaves’ so Eddie’d figured sushi was the only type of food where you kind of got away with that and picked it out a spite as they’d left in the morning.

Richie caught on to what he did as soon as he brought him inside but he added, “Jokes on you though, I love sushi.” (Eddie will _not_ admit to feeling very proud in his choice at this comment.)

They grab a seat surprisingly quickly for the lunchtime rush hour, not that this place was always particularly busy-it’s tucked behind a row of big brand names on the main road, which is also partly why he chose it. He, maybe, wanted Richie all to himself rather than having to share him with possible peering eyes of fans.

After ordering their drinks, the two of them fawn over the menus, now rather hungry and impatient. Eddie’s studying it intently, mentally debating whether he should order the salmon or avocado nigiri, when he looks over to Richie to find him observing him quietly.

Richie’s gaze doesn’t waver when they meet eyes and Eddie can’t help but blush and duck away.

“What?” He asks softly, half pleased and half annoyed. Richie picks his menu up but doesn’t divert his eyes. 

“Nothing, I’m just- I’m just really happy. I love...,” He responds, pausing a second, “...this. I love this, a lot.” Eddie’s heart pounds in his chest, wondering if he was about to say something else. Richie only smiles at him fondly, not giving anything away.

Eddie attempts to begin to work out how to respond and Richie just finally glances down and begins examining the menu. Only Richie would manage to say something like that and then continue on like nothing happened. God, sometimes he infuriated him.

In the end, Eddie answers truthfully, “I love this too.” And they find themselves smiling across the table at each other like idiots, as Richie takes his hand, holding it attentively.

Eddie watches the affection gracing Richie’s face increase tenfold at the sight of their hands clasped together and smiles, squeezing his hand. 

Yeah, he loves this a lot.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie receives a call but will Eddie manage to remember?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so glad everyone seemed to like the second chapter ♡ This is the third and final chapter -so glad it’s finally going up! Enjoy :)

“Aren’t I at least going to get a thank you for setting the two of you up?” Myra asks down the phone. They’d finally found the time to have a proper catch up and she’s ecstatic him and Richie have gotten together.

Eddie scoffs lightly before saying sincerely, “Thank you, Myra. He’s great, I’m great; this is the best I’ve felt about a relationship in a while.” Not that he’d been in very many, but Myra knew that.

Richie apparently has impeccable timing, as he walks back into the lounge bearing the takeout he’d volunteered to pick up. Turning round to face him, Eddie’s met with a mockingly sweet face being made at him. So, he’d heard him then, he wouldn’t live that down for a while. Red-hot blush occupies his face in slight embarrassment.

“Tell Myra I love her!” Richie calls from the kitchen where he can be heard setting plates out for them. Eddie laughs.

“Richie says he loves you.” He reports. Myra giggles and tells him to tell him she loves him too.

“I’ve gotta go in a second, Richie just got back with the food,” Eddie informs her, “But let’s meet up for coffee or something in a couple days, yeah?”

“Sure!” Myra replies, “See you then, Eddie.” before quickly hanging up.

Eddie places his phone down on the couch and puts it back on charge. He then follows the sweet aroma of pizza from the kitchen.

He finds Richie still unboxing the many meals they had apparently ordered and so he joins in helping him. Richie acknowledges his presence with a lightly placed hand on his back, he does that more and more recently.

It was something Eddie hadn’t noticed originally, but Richie has become way more affectionate than he’d been in the early stages of their relationship. Whether it’s a fond smile every time their eyes meet, snuggling extremely close together in bed or on the sofa or even just a kiss goodbye in the morning, Eddie grows increasingly used to his more frequent displays of intimacy. However out of the blue they were.

Eddie shoots him a warm smile but his facial expression soon changes when he notices the teasing look on Richie’s face.

“Best relationship, huh?” He asks, bumping shoulders with him and grinning happily to himself.

Pushing him back slightly too hard, Eddie tells him to shut up. 

“And don’t touch the pizza yet,” He instructs Richie, changing the subject and slapping his hand creeping for a slice away, “You’ve been outside on the streets of New York, do you _know_ how many germs are found on the sidewalk alone?” 

Staring at his boyfriend incredulously, Richie decides to pull him up on one of his claimed health statistics for once. “I don’t know, how many?”

Eddie stops suddenly to think, indicting a laugh from Richie knowing he’s caught him out.

“Fine, I don’t know either, but it’s definitely a fucking load.” He snaps, whisking as many plates as he could manage through to the living room, leaving Richie chuckling behind him. Sighing, Eddie still couldn’t get over the fact that Richie didn’t even own a dining table, let alone a dining room.

_(“Why would I need one? Who exactly do you think I’m entertaining around here?” Richie’d asked, waving around the room, “If someone’s not satisfied with my lack of apparent ability to cook, host and entertain, then they’re obviously not my kind of person.” Eddie’d shut up about it pretty quickly after that.) _

After all the dishes have been transferred from one room to another and arranged neatly by Eddie on the coffee table in front of them, they realise they may’ve ordered a bit too much.

Eddie blows out a long breath trying to decide what he wants to eat first. “God, after this I reckon I’m gonna be the size of a haystack.” Selecting a slice of Hawaiian pizza as he says so.

Richie lets out a laugh and Eddie looks at him questioningly.

“Oh, no, it’s nothing. Just reminded me of someone I used to know.” He tells him rather quietly. Then he leans across Eddie to reach the pepperoni pizza situated there, placing it on his plate he looks over at Eddie’s and makes a face.

Taking his first bite and chewing it expeditiously, Eddie asks him, “What?” in an accusing tone.

Richie shakes his head as he answers, “I can’t believe I actually like a man who likes pineapple on his pizza. You’re so lucky you’re attractive.” Taking a bite of his pizza as he finishes.

Eddie manages to roll his eyes and flip him the middle finger despite feeling his body warm and heart rate increase at Richie calling him _attractive_. Sure, it was probably implied that Richie finds him good looking from the fact that he’d agreed to go out with him, but Eddie still found it very pleasing to hear from the other man.

“It’s fucking good.” Eddie finally simply states, taking a large bite to emphasise his point.

“Uh-uh,” Richie counters, “Tropical fruits of any kind do not belong on a pizza, let alone being cooked at all.”

Eddie narrows his eyes at his boyfriend and shifts sideways on the couch so that his feet landed in his lap. 

“Oh, so you’re the expert on cooking now, are you?” He questions, “I seem to remember it wasn’t _me_ who managed to set off the fire alarm on THREE different occasions this week alone.” Eddie stares at him as he reminds him of this fact and holds up three fingers with his spare hand.

However, before Richie is given the chance to reply, his phone rings. He sighs dramatically as he drags it out of his pocket and places his plate down on the side.

Eddie observes as he makes a face at the unknown number displayed on the screen, but he still answers it anyway.

“Hello?” Richie greets warily, hands holding Eddie’s feet still placed comfortably on top of his thighs.

As Eddie hears a voice faintly answer down the phone, he can actually feel Richie’s body freeze up under his legs. He places his own plate down on his chest and watches him more intently.

“...Mike?” Eddie hears Richie ask into the phone quietly and unsurely, his voice barely a whisper. Quite suddenly, Richie turns to meet Eddie’s eyes, as if remembering he’s there and tells the man on the phone to wait a minute.

Richie lightly pushes at Eddie’s feet on his lap and he gets the idea, moving them away. “I’ve just gotta take this, Eds,” He explains, moving up from the couch, “I’ve been waiting for this call, well let’s say, for a very long time.” Eddie can only nod.

And on that ominous note, Richie swiftly exits the lounge, moving into the corridor to resume his call. Slowly, Eddie catches up with the world and half-heartedly finishes his slice of pizza.

Leaning his head back against the arm of the sofa, he lets out a sigh. Attempting to think it over, he couldn’t even begin to guess what was going on with Richie so he decides to let it go for now.

———

“Eddie, honey, you need to calm down a bit.” Myra implores, resting her hand on his arm and stopping him from continuing to madly gesture along with his rant.

They’d sat down for coffee an hour ago and Eddie had barely stopped talking since. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie sighs, taking a calming sip of his latte, “You see where I’m coming from though, right? I’m not being crazy obsessive?” He looks at her with pleading, hopeful eyes. 

Myra rubs his arm as she answers, “Well... I don’t think you’re crazy, no.” carefully. She was fully aware of how easily worked up Eddie could get.

“I knew it!” Eddie exclaims with another elaborate gesture of his free hand, probably a little too happy to find himself sane, “Oh God, this is terrible though.” He realises after his brief burst of success.

Myra leans back slightly, retracting her arm and suddenly Eddie feels a light slap being delivered onto the side of his face.

Jerking his face up abruptly, he stares at her with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“What the hell was that for?!” He cries, cradling his reddening left cheek.

“I’m trying to slap some sense into you, you idiot!” Myra declares, exasperated look in her eyes, “Of course Richie isn’t cheating on you.”

Still watching her reproachfully, he drops his hand and replies, “Didn’t you listen to anything I said? He’s literally walked out of the room to talk to this ‘Mike’ guy when he’s been with me, _his boyfriend_, three times in the last few days. What is that meant to suggest to me?!”

Shaking her head at his catastrophizing of the situation, Myra simply sips her coffee, listening before butting in, “Oh c’mon Eddie. You can’t seriously think that. I mean, I was literally on the phone with him the other day and he clearly is in lo- is head over heels for you.”

But Eddie’s barely listening, shaking his head.

“I- I really don’t think he would do that but, I mean, what other explanation is there? I’ve tried really hard to think of any other one.” He finally murmurs quietly, Myra finds it hard to hear in the bustling coffee shop. She gives him a tight smile and places her hand over his.

“So? Just ask him, I’m sure he’ll be happy to tell you who this guy is.” She tells him sincerely as he looks at her. He looks tired and exposed.

Eddie takes a deep breath and nods slowly. “Thanks for helping me keep my head straight, Myra.” He answers, sending his thanks with his eyes also.

“No problem, kiddo,” She replies, cracking a smile, “Now get your ass home and get some goddamn sleep. You look terrible.”

Eddie just laughs and thanks her again before quitting the coffee shop and feels the harsh embrace of the New York winter wrap around him as he steps outside. Pulling his coat tighter against his body, he quickens his pace towards his apartment.

He could do that. He could ask Richie. Easy.

———

He doesn’t ask Richie when he sees him that evening. Or the next day. Or the one after that. It’s ridiculous, really, because he’s only torturing himself by not asking but he really can’t bring himself to do so. He doesn’t think he could take it if Richie is actually... God he doesn’t even want to think about it.

That’s how, on the third day after his meeting with Myra, he finds himself at Richie’s place unannounced. He waits impatiently as he rings the doorbell.

Surprisingly, Richie reaches the door rather quickly and Eddie feels warmth explode in his chest when he sees his face light up at the sight of him.

“Eddie!” Richie exclaims all too loudly for a Sunday morning, “I wondered if it was those Girl Scouts coming round with the cookies again, normally I can see who it is through the top panel.” He taps the upmost window panes on his door, grinning as he does so.

Eddie stares at him and answers flatly, “Very funny, I get it, I’m shorter than you.”

Richie just smiles and leads him inside by his hand. He manages to shut the door behind him skilfully with his foot and the rushing warmth of Richie’s house stops escaping outside.

His hand on Eddie soon moves along his arm and before he knows it, Eddie finds himself entangled in his boyfriend’s upper limbs around his waist. Richie pulls him closer so he has to look down at him.

“I like it though,” He answers finally, “Means I can do this.”

Before Eddie can even comprehend his words, he finds his lips occupied by the other’s in a sweet and tender kiss. He feels Richie smile as he cooperates, turning his head, as Richie changes angles.

Eddie feels himself shiver as Richie’s cold hands find warmth by creeping under the sides of his shirt and gracing his sides. He rubs his skin as they continue kissing and Eddie actively has to try and suppress a moan.

He’s just beginning to lean forward into the kiss when Richie suddenly retracts his lips from his. Eddie just about manages to stop himself from falling over, fortunately.

“Asshole, don’t be such a tease.“ Eddie groans at him, righting himself.

Richie grins and moves to grab his coat from the rack behind Eddie. “You love it.” He insists with a scrunch of his face that Eddie can’t believe he finds cute.

When the taller begins buttoning his coat up, Eddie ultimately asks, “Are we going out somewhere?”

Richie scoffs before answering, “We? You’re the one who showed up on my doorstep unannounced. I’ve got a photo shoot to get to, Eds, the car’s gonna be here any minute.” He places a hand on his shoulder as he says this.

Eddie only says, “Oh,” and expresses his regret at not calling ahead. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea in the end.

Richie is quick to rephrase, “Don’t get me wrong, I loved that you showed up,” He tightens his hold on him reassuringly, “But I’ve got to go pretty soon. You could come with me or stay here for a while? I don’t think it’s gonna take too long.”

Eddie contemplates this for a second, “Can I help myself to the fridge if I stay?” He asks in the end.

Chuckling Richie replies, “Yeah, sure.” before he’s interrupted by his impatient car driver honking from outside. Richie rolls his eyes, making Eddie laugh.

“I’ll see you in a bit then, yeah?” Richie asks, kissing him on his cheek quickly before rushing outside into the cold.

“Yeah, in a bit.” Eddie calls out after him before closing the door. He lets out a long sigh, leaning against it. Again, he’d become completely distracted from his actual purpose of coming here. It’s pretty much what happened every time Eddie decided it was finally time to bring ‘Mike’ up, he just feels so content and at ease around Richie. 

Deciding to hold Richie to his word, he makes his way to the kitchen to inspect the fridge. After deliberating for a while, he settles on fixing himself an omelette with the absurd number of eggs Richie seems to keep. _Who needs fifteen eggs? Fifteen?! _

He’s halfway through laboriously poking and flipping his omelette when a shrill tone almost scares the shit out of him. 

After turning down the heat on the pan and taking a quick look around the room, he identifies the sound as originating from under a tea towel discarded messily beside the sink. Eddie removes the towel to set it in its correct place but stops when he notices the caller ID: ‘Mike’.

Now, Eddie has many options here but not a lot of time. The phone has already been ringing out for a few seconds and so, rather rashly and impulsively, Eddie makes the decision to answer the call. After all, it may be important and this ‘Mike’ may need to leave Richie a message (at least that’s how he justifies his actions to himself.)

Once he’s answered the call, Eddie waits for the other man to speak first.

“Richie?” Comes a deep voice down the phone. There’s a few more seconds of silence before he talks again, “Beep beep, man, you’re freaking me out.”

Eddie coughs as he feels the pulling at his chest again, the one from when he first met Richie, from that day at Richie’s talk show. He doesn’t know what it means.

“I, I don’t-,” Is all he manages to get out, but this seems to have been enough for Mike anyway.

“Oh shit,” The deep voice says lowly. A moment passes before he hears him speak again, “...Eddie?” Mike asks this carefully, as if trying to coax a wild animal out of danger.

Eddie feels himself stop breathing and struggles to question, “How do you know my name?” The feeling in his chest isn’t leaving like it had before, it seems to have settled and rooted itself inside of him.

The voice, Mike, he supposed he should say, answers calmly but there was a tinge of worry and excitement in his tone. “Eddie, my name is Mike Hanlon,” He begins slowly, “We used to know each other. We grew up together... in Derry.”

He doesn’t reply and Mike holds his silence too, as if waiting for something to happen. 

“Eddie?” He asks again.

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eddie insists but he knows he’s lying as the fleeting images come flashing back to him again.

_The Barrens. The Clubhouse. The arcade. The sewers. _

“Try and stay calm,“ Mike suggests, patiently waiting for his reply, “What do you remember?”

Eddie still really has no idea what’s going on but feels he can implicitly trust this man. He tells him he can see places he partially recognises.

“That’s good,” Mike informs him, voice understanding, “Can you see anything else?” 

Closing his eyes to immerse himself, Eddie finds himself looking around a circle of scraggly, young teens holding hands. He tries hard to focus and allows the feeling within him to flow. Nostalgia and melancholy burst through him as their faces begin to become less blurry and his eyes widen in recognition.

_Bev, Ben, Bill, Stan, Mike._

The names come washing to the forefront of his brain like a tidal wave, though it does not feel unpleasant, rather more welcoming, like coming home. 

He recounts these names to Mike and receives encouragement in return. However, Eddie keeps his eyes shut as he turns to his left to see the last face of the circle.

He turns and stops suddenly, coming face to face with a teen wearing thick, dark-rimmed glasses that frame familiar brown eyes and the most ridiculous grin he would recognise anywhere.

“Richie?” He whispers out loud shakily. Saying it accelerates the return of hundreds of memories that come flooding in all at once.

_The first time they met. Sneaking round to each other’s houses after school. Relentlessly teasing each other. Bundling together to fit in a hammock made for one._

He feels a tear roll down his face and then he can’t help it, he starts crying uncontrollably as he’s overwhelmed by the sheer love and affection he’d felt for the other boy in his youth. How could he have forgotten? How could he forget Richie?

A silence settles in the room. Another minute goes by before it’s broken again.

“...Eddie?” Mike’s voice asks down the phone. He tries to stifle his sobs, to no avail, but he answers anyway.

“Mike, I-“ He pauses to hold his head in his free hand, “I think I remember.” 

The tears still run down his cheeks, shimmering in the daylight like silver. He manages to seat himself on a breakfast bar stool before his legs have a chance to give out (he’s pretty sure they will.)

Mike takes his time countering this, “Okay. Okay, good,” He stops, apparently deciding to ask, “Do you remember... you know?”

Eddie knows alright. _It_. The terrifying, shape shifting monster that had taken the form of their worst fears and terrorised them in their teenage years.

He then suddenly has a terrible thought. “It’s not back... is it?” He half-whispers tentatively, afraid to ask. He wouldn’t go back. He couldn’t.

“No! No, Eddie, we killed It. For good, remember?” Mike replies quickly. Eddie heaves out a huge sigh of relief. The adrenaline that had began pumping through his veins begins to lull and Eddie notices his face has began to dry up, slightly.

“Thank fuck.” He cant help but exhale. He hears a slight laugh from Mike return but suddenly thrust back into his earlier chain of thought, Eddie doesn’t feel too relieved.

“Why didn’t he tell me? Richie, I mean,” He questions Mike, “He remembered, didn’t he. Why wouldn’t he say?”

Mike hesitates and Eddie demands he answers him.

“Look, where’s Richie right now? I think you should really ask him about this.” Mike insists. Eddie’s about to argue back, rather angrily, when he hears a key turn in the lock. _Fuck_. Eddie thinks.

“He’s here now.” Eddie tells Mike before abruptly hanging up. He’s sure Mike will understand considering the circumstances.

He lays the phone down back on the counter and attempts to wipe his eyes and stop them flowing, unsuccessfully. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._

Eddie hears Richie call for him questioningly from the hall and he answers just loud enough.

Richie enters noisily, as always, chattering, “You would not believe the nerve of this photographer, Eds. What the hell is a ‘pensive pose’?! Honestly, I was so ready to-“

He cuts himself off abruptly when he acknowledges Eddie sitting hunched over the counter, sniffling back tears and staring at him intensely and accusingly.

“Eds, what’s wrong?!” Richie begins to ask, dropping the bag of food in his hands and rushing over. He moves to cup Eddie’s cheek over the counter but he dodges out of the way. Richie drops his hand defeatedly, with a questioning look.

Eddie can barely get the words out but he manages, “Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice cracks on the last word as he closes his eyes slightly, trying to hold back another wave of tears.

He watches as Richie’s eyes grow wide in realisation and as he rounds the counter in record-breaking time. Eddie turns on his chair to face him.

“Oh my God, Eddie. I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry,” He begins, looking about on the edge of a breakdown himself, “I- I didn’t want you to have to remember it all. It’s- it’s terrifying.” Richie nears him as he speaks; he lets him.

Eddie doesn’t say anything so Richie continues, “And I wanted to tell you. I wanted to so bad because I- but I couldn’t get myself to put you though that, not if I didn’t have to.”

Richie finds his searching gaze met with understanding yet watery and soulful eyes.

“But I didn’t remember you, Richie, how could I not remember?” Eddie cries, looking at him angrily for about five more seconds before he can’t take it any longer.

He grasps Richie’s hands and pulls him towards him into a crushing hug. He feels the taller man relax slightly.

When he opens his mouth to speak again, however, Eddie’s cut off by Richie, “I know you’re probably mad. It wasn’t my place, really, to decide if you remembered and, well,” He pauses here, face shifting into sadness, “I totally get it if you don’t want see me anymore, I mean, I guess we’re two completely different people to each other now and-“

Eddie interrupts him by smashing his lips into his, surging forward out of the stool and onto his feet. He can still feel the tears lining his cheeks but it doesn’t matter in this moment. This is Richie. _His Richie_. 

Tilting his head into the kiss, he brings his hands up to Richie’s neck to ground him. Richie’s chapped but soft lips instil love and comfort within him and suddenly  
he feels water on his fingertips, where he’d cupped the taller’s cheek tenderly, and realises Richie’s crying too. 

Eddie steps back slightly, filled with desperate need to say everything he never got to before. 

“I loved you,” Eddie tells him tearily, locking eyes earnestly with the other, “Before, I mean, before everything even happened with It. I loved you when I was with you and I loved you when you left. I never said- I, well, I couldn’t.” He feels Richie’s hands curl round his sides.

Richie’s staring at him motionlessly until he finally says, “Oh.” and then he’s wearing a heart-warming and heart-wrenching smile as he looks at him.

“Twenty-seven fucking years huh?” Richie drawls as he pulls himself closer to Eddie, “I loved you too, so much. And it killed me to not say anything because I wanted to tell you it all. But I didn’t know, I thought that-“

Richie stops himself talking and shakes his head. Eddie looks at him in his baggy sweater, ruffled hair and tear-stained glasses and he relays the truth, “I love you.”

Eddie brushes his finger over Richie’s cheek as he notices his eyes widening again.

“I love you now.” He reiterates, searching his eyes meaningfully. “I love you right now.” He repeats again like a mantra, one he is happy to recite and that has never been so true.

Richie sniffles, eyes watering behind his glasses. He looks like he’s been hoping for so long to hear those words and now they’ve been said, he can’t quite believe it. Finally, he just decides to kiss Eddie instead.

They move against each other, collaborating together on a composition of love and lip. Richie’s hands find his hair and softly stroke through it; Eddie loves it.

“I love you too.” He loudly whispers to Eddie as they pause, resting their foreheads together. Richie has so much more to say but, fortunately, he has the time to tell him now. They have all the time in the world. _Together._

———

_Epilogue:  
About a month later._

Eddie readjusts his head against Richie’s shoulder in the back of the taxi on the way to the airport. As much as he wished it was him being whisked away on some luxurious, tropical holiday, the reality was almost as good. The rest of the Losers had decided to visit them in New York and most of them landed today.

Smiling at the thought of being reunited with his oldest friends, in much happier circumstances than last time, Eddie feels warmth bloom inside of him. Impatient, he asks Richie who lands first.

“I’m pretty sure it’ll be Mike,” He tells him, “He booked his flight before the rest of them, so.” Eddie gives him a nod in return in understanding.

After a minute, Eddie finds himself blushing from embarrassment, recounting what he’d thought of Mike before he remembered anything. Richie catches on pretty quick, laughing even though he doesn’t know what it’s all about.

“What?” Richie asks through chuckles at Eddie’s pained and reddened expression.

Eddie buries his head further into Richie’s shoulder. “Noooo, no,” He whines, protesting, “You’re just gonna laugh at me, it’s really stupid.”

Richie’s eyes light up as he leans forward in interest, Eddie curses his word choice. 

“Aw, c’mon Eds!” He insists, raising his brow, “Now you have to tell me.” Richie digs him lightly in the side.

Eddie can’t help but let out a laugh as he flinches away. “I told you not to call me that.” He reminds him, pushing his face away from him. Richie lets him.

Casting his eyes to the side towards him, Richie rapidly shoots back, “Well, you didn’t seem to mind last night.” in the most sultry voice he can muster.

This causes Eddie to turn an even darker shade of red and attempt to stamp on his foot.

“Fine,” He relents, deciding Richie probably wouldn’t shut up about it, “When you first got back in contact with Mike and you were, you know, calling him a lot, I may have thought that you were maybe cheating with him.” Eddie’s volume largely trails off at the end and Richie makes him repeat it.

Richie lets out a laugh, as expected, but also immediately adds, “You know I’d never actually do that to you though, right?” grabbing his knee and rubbing it comfortingly.

Now, Eddie knows he wouldn’t but still feels great satisfaction and relief hearing it straight from his mouth. He feels warm inside again.

However, what he says is, “Oh, I know. As if you could pick anyone else up with your stupid jokes anyway. Plus, you love me too much.” He poses cutely for Richie here, earning a chuckle from the other man.

“Hey!” Richie objects firstly but when Eddie meets his eyes, they are soft and fond. Smiling, he says, “Yeah, I do.”

Eddie absolutely adores that he voices this and loves the way Richie looks at him. He calls him soft teasingly and Eddie settles his head in the cavern between Richie’s chest and neck.

“I love you too,” He tells him sincerely, “And all your stupid jokes.” He adds, chuckling to himself.

Richie opens his mouth to dispute this but apparently gives up before he even begins, countering only with, “Shut up.” whilst pulling Eddie closer against him as his own smile shines through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who read this fic! I’ve had a wonderful time writing it and I’m so grateful for all your lovely messages ♡

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated as always ♡


End file.
